


Oh Hey

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke never locks her door, so she shouldn't be surprised when Bellamy just walks into her apartment to find her without pants on, wearing the most embarrassing pair of underwear she can imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Hey

**Author's Note:**

> I, a 25 year old woman, proudly own both pairs of underwear mentioned below. If you can't have fun buying underwear, when can you?

Clarke is standing at her stove, stirring pasta, when Bellamy walks into her apartment. “Oh hey,” he calls out, but his voice is off a little.

Clarke looks over her shoulder as he makes his way through the living room and straight into the kitchen. “Hey,” she says, concerned at the tone of his greeting.

“Hey.” He says it with a smirk and Clarke wrinkles her nose at him in confusion.

“You already said that,” she reminds him, pointing her wooden spoon at him. His smirk grows into a full blown smile and she becomes even more confused.

“No, I was reading your ass before,” he tells her and she can feel her cheeks flare up, so she turns her head back to the stove and moves the pasta off the burner, turning it off.

“So, this is why everyone is always telling me to lock my door,” she sighs, turning toward him more confidently now that her cheeks have cooled down. So, she’s not wearing pants and her underwear say “oh hey” on the ass in bright pink graffiti? Big deal.

“Yes, it’s because we’re all worried that one of your oldest friends is going to walk in and see you with no pants on and embarrassing underwear,” he laughs, shaking his head. “It has nothing to do with the fact that we don’t want you to get kidnapped and murdered.”

“I knew it,” she says, laughing and he shrugs, feigning oblivion. “I’m going to go put on some pants. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t get dressed on my account,” he says and she flips him off before scurrying to her bedroom.

Of course Bellamy has seen her in a bathing suit and even a few times without a shirt on, wearing only a bra and a pair of sweatpants. But, honestly, none of her bras have silly sayings on them in bright pink graffiti. They’re all pretty damn cute. Sexy even. Or they’re just colorful sports bras. Either way, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s the underwear she likes to have a little fun with.

She pulls on her biggest, comfiest pairs of sweatpants as soon as she’s in her room. She’s not trying to impress Bellamy, just hide her legs that she hasn’t shaved in a week and walk out looking a little more decent. Before she leaves her room, though, she lets her hair down from the bun that was on top of her head and fluffs it a little.

She’s _not_ trying to impress Bellamy. Honestly.

He’s sitting at her tiny table in the corner of her kitchen with a plate of pasta in front of him and another one across from him. She didn’t cook for him. She didn’t even know he was coming over. But she always cooks way too much pasta for just one person and, plus, that’s just the kind of friends they are. All of them. They don’t need to ask permission to share food or even come into each other’s houses. She probably wouldn’t have even put pants on if he was Octavia, but… she’s not in love with Octavia.

“Thanks,” she says, sliding into the chair across from him. He nods, twirling pasta around the head of his fork, and studies her. “What?”

“You’re a doctor, right?” he asks and she narrows her eyes at him in disbelief.

“You know I’m a doctor, asshole.”

“Okay,” he laughs, leaning closer to the table. “I just needed to get that out there before I continued.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and Bellamy smiles, looking down at his plate. “What is it?” she asks him, kicking him in the shin under the table.

“What kind of doctor walks around wearing bright blue underwear that say ‘oh hey’ on the ass underneath their scrubs?”

Clarke sighs, rolling her eyes, and Bellamy stares at her, waiting for an answer. She kicks him harder under the table and watches him cringe in pain. It makes her smile, watching him suffer like that. But, she’s a healer not a harmer, so she answers him.

“The kind who works a million hours a day taking care of sick children and even watching some of them die,” she tells him and his face falls. “The kind who needs to have a little fun in her life because her job is hard and her friends are _assholes_.”

He smiles a little at that and Clarke can’t help but smile back. Her friends aren’t assholes. _Bellamy_ isn’t an asshole.

“I like them,” he tells her and she laughs. “Seriously, I do. If I could find bright blue boxers with a bright pink greeting on the ass, I’d be all over it.”

“Shut up,” she laughs and he reaches across the table to squeeze her hand quickly. “Why are you here, again?”

“I was bored,” he shrugs and she nods. She doesn’t push it any further. She likes having him there. “But, can you seriously lock your door when you’re home alone?”

“But then you wouldn’t have seen my adorable underwear,” she reminds him and he levels her with a glare. He’s serious. He means business. “I am better about it. I lock it at night now.”

“Clarke, it’s 8:30 and it’s only locked because I did it on my way in,” he tells her, his voice rising a little. Not in anger, but concern. He’s always so worried about everyone else.

“I meant, like, when I go to bed,” Clarke corrects herself and Bellamy shakes his head, sighing. He worries _too_ much. “I’m alive, right?” She asks and he nods, but he’s not impressed. “Okay, then I’m doing something right.”

“Or you’re just lucky.”

They sit in silence, challenging each other with hard looks. Clarke knows she _should_ lock her door when she’s home alone. She’s done enough ER rotations to see the worst that can happen. It’s not that she’s actively _not_ locking her door. It’s just that she forgets.

And she knows Bellamy cares about her and wants her to be safe. And alive. It’s exactly what he would do if Octavia lived alone. And she thinks, on some level, that’s why she likes fighting him on it. She doesn’t want to be lumped in with his little sister for the rest of her life. But, she also doesn’t want to die in her own apartment at the hands of some crazed lunatic, so she decides she will do better.

“Bellamy,” she sighs, because she hates admitting that she’s wrong. Especially when it means also admitting that Bellamy is right.

“No, Clarke, I’m serious,” he cuts her off—loudly—and she sits back in shock. “You can’t just go around gambling with your life. You live in a nice building, sure, but you don’t know your neighbors. Your building doesn’t have a doorman or any real security. You’re being reckless and that’s not fair to me.”

Still shocked, Clarke sputters out a breath. But, then, she smiles. “Not fair to _you_?” she asks him and his eyes snap from where they’d fallen after his spiel. She swears she can see a little red climbing up his neck.

“Us. Not fair to _us_ ,” Bellamy says quickly. Clarke smiles wider. “If something happened to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your friends. That’s what I meant.”

“I’ve never seen you squirm so much,” she teases him and he sighs, pushing out his chair to stand up. “No, don’t leave,” she laughs, jumping up to put her hands on his chest to stop him from moving.

“You’re being a jerk.”

Clarke lets one more laugh out and Bellamy attempts to move away from her, but she pushes him against her kitchen wall and he freezes. “I will get better at locking my door,” she promises him.

“Good,” Bellamy says with a stiff nod. He’s nervous. Clarke has no doubt he’d be squirming again if she wasn’t physically restraining him.

“But I just have one question,” she says and he nods again. “How will you accidentally see all of my other awesome pairs of underwear? I’m afraid you’re going to be missing out on a great selection.”

Bellamy swallows, considering her, before he wets his lips and smirks. “You do know I have your spare key, right? If I wanted to see your underwear so badly, I could just use that,” he tells her and she laughs before hiding her face against his chest.

She can feel him chuckle and she looks up at him again. Just looking at him makes her heart speed up and her palms sweat. He must be able to see something on her face, because he’s not smiling anymore. He’s back to being the Bellamy that worries about everyone—about _her_.

She loves that he worries, because it means he cares. Of course, she’s always known he cares, but it’s nice to be reminded. Even when it leads to him yelling at her about locking her door, or looking at her the way he is now, making her want to run and hide.

“There are probably easier ways for you to see my underwear,” she tells him slowly and his eyes darken. “If you were interested.”

Clarke takes her hands off of him, giving him the ability to get away if that’s what he wants. Instead, he takes one of her hands in his and slides his fingers between hers. She watches their hands as he squeezes her palm against his and tugs a bit for her to look back up at his face again.

“I’m listening,” he says deeply and she steps closer to him, her heart still racing. “Don’t start something you don’t intend on finishing, though.”

That, right there, makes Clarke think that, maybe, she hasn’t been the only one feeling the way she feels. Maybe Bellamy shows up uninvited because he wants to see her because he has real, deep feelings for her. Maybe he worries about her the way he worries about her sister because he loves her just as much, but in a different— _romantic—_ way. She hopes.

“I’ve wanted to finish it for a long time, Bell,” she almost laughs. He breathes out a sigh of relief and pulls her close before using his free hand to cup her cheek.

“Good,” he smiles, leaning in. “Me too.”

And when his lips are on hers, grounding her and making her heart soar at the same time, she smiles into the kiss. “We can heat the pasta up later,” she offers when he pulls back to smile.

“I like it better that way,” he swallows and she laughs before kissing him again, harder and more desperate than before.  

He gets her sweats off before they make it to her room and his hands palm the graffiti on her ass making her giggle. “I knew you’d appreciate them,” she says when he starts kissing a line down her neck.

“Did you buy them with me in mind?” he asks her, stopping his movements and looking at her. His eyes are even darker than before and they’re both breathing so heavily. She has him against the wall outside of her bedroom and his leg is wedged between her thighs. She’s going to combust.

“Listen,” she breathes. “Can we talk about what I do with you in mind later? Just assume it’s everything. All of the time. For, like, the last year and a half. Okay?”

Bellamy rests his forehead against hers and smiles slowly. “I wish you had told me,” he tells her. “We could have been doing this a lot sooner.”

“Right back at you.” Clarke smiles and when Bellamy kisses her, it’s soft, like they do it all the time. Which, she knows, they will from now on. Life as she knows it has changed. She couldn’t be happier.

\--

Three days later, after Clarke and Bellamy have finally wrenched themselves out of bed and spent the day apart at work, she goes to the bar to meet her friends.

He’s there of course, sitting alone on one side of the booth, so she slides in next to him. “Oh hey,” he says, looking over at her.

Her cheeks flush and her heart races at the memory of him finding her in her new favorite pair of underwear. Thankfully, Octavia and Raven sitting across from them can’t tell the difference. To them, it’s just a normal, run of the mill greeting.

“Oh hey,” she says back and he smiles.

“What are they today?” he asks and she rolls her eyes, looking at Raven and Octavia. They’re not even paying attention, though, so she looks at Bellamy again.

“Cheeseburgers,” she sighs and he laughs, leaning his head toward hers. She laughs, too, because it really is ridiculous to think that, under her light pink scrubs, is a pair of teal underwear covered in tiny cheeseburgers.

“I _cannot_ wait to see that,” he tells her and she nods a quick promise.

“I can’t wait to show you,” she says quietly and he leans even closer. She wants to kiss him, but Octavia throws a piece of popcorn from the bowl on the table at her, and she looks away feeling unsatisfied.

“Do you want to play darts when Lincoln and Wells are done?” Octavia asks and Clarke can tell it’s at least the second time she’s had to ask. But she doesn’t seem annoyed or like she has any idea what’s going on.

“Definitely,” she promises. “Should we do teams?”

“Yes,” Octavia says, nodding excitedly. “I get Raven.”

Raven’s the best darts player of them all, but Clarke doesn’t care. “Great, then I get Bellamy,” she says and smiles to herself when Bellamy’s hand slides onto her leg, squeezing lightly.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
